He had a doctor’s appointment today.
The cancer is too widespread for chemo to do any good.
In fact, there’s no point in him quitting smoking either.
Damn.
Again, I’m so very sorry.
Just spend as much time as you can together as a family.
Lung cancer sucks. I had an extremely close relative be diagnosed with lung cancer a little over a year ago and they told us he had 6 months left. He died 10 days later. We thought we had a little time left with him but we didn’t.
So many regrets about things we didn’t do or say before it was too late.
Lung cancer doesn’t just suck, it blows the big goat while felching several woodland creatures and clubbing baby seals. Unfortunately, fighting just doesn’t really do a lot of good. It can buy you some time, but that time is often difficult, painful time, both for you and for for your family. Sometimes it’s better to just accept the inevitable and try to make the little time you have left as good and happy as you can manage.
One of my uncles got his six-month prognosis (inoperable lung cancer with brain mets) about five and a half months ago. He’s tolerating the chemo better than I would have thought, really, but he’s doing it purely for my aunt. Left to himself, he would have gone home, kept riding his motorcycles and hanging out with his cronies, and died a few months ago. As it is, he hasn’t been on a motorcycle for almost five months. He just doesn’t have the strength with the chemo. He’s so weak that they only stayed at Mom and Dad’s New Year’s party for about an hour.
I figure it’s just a matter of time till my dad’s looking at the exact same shitty prognosis, unfortunately. He’s had a massive heart attack followed by quadruple bypass seven years ago, and just had a stroke a couple of months ago, and is watching his brother in law die of lung cancer, and he still won’t fucking quit smoking. It makes me sad and scared, but mostly it makes me want to shake him till his teeth rattle and scream, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING MORON?! STOP FUCKING KILLING YOURSELF!" For the love of Og, the night before his bypass, the surgeon told us that “when I pick up his heart to cut it, it will probably crumble in my hands like cottage cheese.” By all laws of science, he should never have come out of that OR alive, and now he just can’t kill himself fast enough, damn him.